


No More Night Terrors

by Assumare



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5802187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assumare/pseuds/Assumare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat has a hard time adjusting to life on the meteor and doesn't want to be alone anymore.</p><p>He learns he doesn't have to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> Really this is just yet another meteor fic about Dave and Karkat becoming bros.

One sweep and a half on this blasted meteor.  
One sweep and a half you will never get back.  
One sweep and a half since you last saw your friends alive.  
One sweep and a half wasted.  
One sweep and a half older.

You don't feel a sweep in a half older.  
You feel ancient.  
You feel the experience of the game far surpass your sweeps.  
You feel tired.

The meteor is both a hell and a haven.

A hell because you're trapped on a rock hurtling through space with you sort-of-ex-matesprit, a murderous juggalo ex-moirail (who happens to be your sort-of-ex-matesprit's kismesis), your best friend and her intoxicated human "girlfriend", another human who you can't stand (who _also_ happens to probably be dating your sort-of-ex-matesprit), a silent carapace who spends his days building a town made of cans (you figure he's not very sane anymore, but none of you really are, so you can't blame him), and the ghosts of the friends whose lives you were responsible for and failed, both figuratively and literally. Living in the same spaces as them and walking through the same hallways they did doesn't help with that. Neither does talking to their alternate selves, knowing that they aren't yours. Or sometimes they are, and that's worse. You try to avoid seeing them.

No one here wants to talk to you except the dead, and you don't want to talk to them. No one here really wants you around, and sometimes (whenever you're alone, which is always) you wonder why _are_ you still around?  
There's no one here to talk to except for the carapace, and it goes without saying that he doesn't have many words to comfort you with.

It's a haven because it's a break from the game. Although its ghosts still haunt you, you don't have to worry about being attacked by something or have the weight of responsibility for the lives of the others on your shoulders every second. True, you still feel responsible for them, but the looming threat of death hanging over your heads is basically gone.  
It's a haven because no one will notice that you haven't left your respiteblock in days, maybe weeks, to talk or to get food or anything at all, really.  
It's a haven because you don't have to pretend to be okay and you're allowed to just sit and waste time until you're interrupted by an irritating visitor, or more rarely, sleep.

You spend a lot of time like that.  
Alone with your self-hatred and depression.  
Everyone was so self-absorbed in their own problems due to romance and mental scarring from the game that you were forgotten about, which you suppose was the best for everyone. You had to gain back your sanity at least a little bit before you could feel troll again.

One day, several perigrees into the trip, you had fallen asleep on Gamzee's old pile while reading a novel you had stored away deep in your sylladex. At the beginning, you were so sure that your moirailgence would survive and fix the both of you. You waited on his pile for him less and less often as he persisted to not give a fuck. You could feel his presence from time to time, but he never showed. The last person who had sworn to always be there abandoned you, just like everyone else, and by CHOICE. Then he betrayed you further with the relationship with Terezi that they tried to hide from you, and that was it.

That particular day had been one of the last visits. Part of that had to do not only with being sick of his shit and putting yourself through that, and the other had to do with the nightmare you had that which was likely caused by sleeping on his pile.

You woke up gasping and crying all over the place, embarrassed that you were still letting that night get to you but thoroughly distraught from how vivid and real it was.

You were glad that at least you had fallen asleep in this room, as opposed to any of the other ones, due to the fact that hardly anyone came into this room anymore. Fortunately for you, if someone had gotten the desire to come into the room, they wouldn't be able to see you since you were sleeping on the side of the pile hidden from the doorway. 

Unfortunately for you, none of that really mattered, because after you had felt this relief and tried to start calming yourself down, it became known to you that you were not alone in the room and that someone was watching you.

You startle and yelp, aiming a horn at Dave Strider's head without thinking about it. It bounces off and makes a horrible honking noise followed by a clatter, the sound causing you to shudder particularly violently and the bile to rise in your throat. 

He merely raises an eyebrow at your self-defense. He remains silent, and for some reason, that pisses you off. He always has something to say to you, especially when you've made yourself look weak. That's his thing, he likes to dig at you in every way possible, especially at your previously known flaws. So why now wouldn't he utter a single god damn syllable? Was it because you were obviously having some kind of mental breakdown and holy shit look my feelings were real tangible things now?

"What, got nothing to say, grub fucker?" You snarl at him to try and regain some of your non existent ferocity. 

"That's right, Strider. I'm a fucking wimp so watch me cry and laugh at the fact that I'm still upset at friends being dead all because of me being a shit leader. Now stop being such a fucking creep and leave me alone."

You look off to the side and grit your teeth, trying to will your god damn blubbering to stop, at least until you can get to your block. Moping like a fucking wiggler is just making you look bad and isn't getting anything done. 

The room is silent. You would've thought he left except you can see his shoes out of the corner of your eye.

Time passes, no one says a thing. You just want the fucker to _leave_.

"So, nightmares, huh?"

That's the first thing he says, right before you've decided to chew him out after several moments of awkward have floated about in the air.

You scoff and decide not to comment, hoping he'll get the hint and leave.

He doesn't.

"Yeah, I've had a lot of nightmares too. They suck big time, man."

What the fuck, why was he being civilized? Why was he trying to make conversation?

"Yeah, we all know that, moron. Leave."

"What do you have nightmares about?"

"Fucking guess."

Worse, why was he responding?!

"Oh, yeah." He scratches the back of his neck somewhat uncomfortably. Having a conversation that hasn't dissolved into bickering is uncomfortable. You catch the movement in the corner of your eye.

"I, uh... I'm sorry. About what happened to your friends and stuff. You've seen a lot of people die."

What the _fuck_?!

"Yeah, well. We all have. How many times have you watched yourself die or known that you were sending yourself to your own death?"

It's out of your big mouth before you can think about it and you immediately regret it. 

"Wait, shit, sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to bring it up that was really stupid and completely-"

"It's all right. The answer is too many."

The both of you are speaking quietly, not really wanting to break the mood but not really liking it either.

He comes and sits next to you on the pile, even though it's likely extremely uncomfortable for him. The horns honk as he sits down, and you cringe, tasting the bile in you once more.

You sit there with a mile of air and silence hanging between you.

"What, uh... Never mind." You terminate the thought before it gets completed, feeling disgusted with yourself for even thinking of asking it.

"No, c'mon, just ask, dude." He nudges you as if you're pals. 

You can't help but be on edge by how weird this is.

You hate him _so fucking much_ and he you so why is this happening?

Why don't you want it to stop but crave for it to end at the same time?

"Come on, it's okay."

"No, it's stupid and I doubt you want to get deep and personal with me, St- Dave." 

Although his first name feels odd coming out of your mouth, it feels right for the moment.

"Naw man, you can't pull that shit. We just poured our hearts to each other, now you gotta add the cream to the top to seal our magical feelings jam."

You roll your eyes and punch him in the shoulder lightly but still refuse to respond.

"You were gonna ask me about my own nightmares, am I right?"

"N-no, I just, I- Uh. Yeah."

He takes a moment, probably deciding whether or not he should respond with a snarky answer or one at all.

You turn your attention to his shoes and the way his feet tap to the beat of a song only he can hear, or maybe he's counting the seconds.

"I dream about my brother a lot."

You have a sharp intake of breath.

You knew that his brother was basically his human lusus, except their lusii could actually speak their language to them and were usually present through out their lives.

You knew that Dave was especially close to his brother, and that losing him was probably devastating. There wasn't a lot of topics that you two tended to stay away from when fighting, but the deaths that the game had somehow caused was one of them.

"I also dream about alternate timelines I've lived in and futures that are messed up and dead Daves. The dead Daves just keep piling up, man.

"Lately I've been having this reoccurring dream where I'm messing with some time shenanigans and my Bro is there for some weird Freud reasons and he's really disappointed in me for letting everyone and himself die and then right before I wake up, I find out that I'm in a doomed timeline. I'm the next dead Dave."

Silence and the other's presence is your only comfort.

"What about your dream? I'm not gonna sit over here and pour my heart out while you preene your nails and do your hair. Come on, give me an emotionally juicy dream to work with."

"Fuck you." You don't exactly feel like sharing.

"Seriously, I'll even psychoanalyze you if you want. Rose has been given me some tips on how to tell you you're crazy so you'll go crazy from thinking you're crazy. Shit's cray."

"We're all 'cray'."

"Word."

The quiet isn't so bad anymore. It's almost bearable, in fact. It's like he knows you're going to tell him before you do, and he's okay with taking his time. Then again, he has all the time in the world, so maybe that's why.

"I keep dreaming of that night..." You're speaking in a whisper but you can hear the sobs in your throat making your volume waver louder. 

"Everyone dying, left and right. I try... I try and stop it but I guess I don't really do anything. It's like I'm there again and it's that night and I can hear the honks and who knows where Eridan is-"

You're getting louder and more frantic as more tears begin to roll down your face at the memory that you wish you could say was just a dream.

"-and Equius and Nepeta are dead suddenly and so is everyone and it's all my fault and then it gets worse and literally everyone is dead and there's blood everywhere and darkness and just me, I'm not allowed to die because I have to suffer and watch everyone else and I can smell it I can smell the blood and hear the honks and I can't-"

You distantly realize that you've started to hyperventilate and although you know this is a bad idea you keep going, too lost in the memory and the dream which are indivisible from each other and besides, you need to just get it out already you know it.

"-he was my friend, my BEST friend, my fucking MOIRAIL for fuck sake and he just goes and kills literally all I have, the only reason I have for still being alive at all, and I just can't believe that it happened that way and it's real, it's all real-"

You're running your mouth and you know sounds and words are coming out of it and pain personified but you can't seem to make sense of what you're saying anymore. 

"Shhhhhh."

Dave rubs your back in a circular motion that somehow reminds you of your lusus, and then you're gasping for breath. You're just now noticing that he pulled you into a hug to try and calm you down. You can't think of the last time anyone did this for you, if anyone's ever done it at all, and that lets loose the floodgates.

You're crying red-tinged tears everywhere which increases your self hatred that much more but you grip onto Dave and take him along for the emotional ride. 

Quite a while later, you're still clutching pathetically onto him as he soothes your back like a human lusus and mumbles nothing into your hair. You're emotionally drained and embarrassed as fuck and have no clue how to stop the embrace. Your breathing is now just shuddering and hitching occasionally but he still holds onto you. Maybe he's using you as a temporary support just as much as you used him. You hope. That would certainly be less embarrassing than the emotional spewing you just did.

"Dave," You speak into his shoulder, your words muted and quiet as you're not sure if you want him to hear what you have to say. "I'm sorry about your human lusus. I know... I know he wasn't very good to you."

His breath catches slightly.

"Yeah, he was shit. I should've accepted it sooner. I'm sorry for your crab dad, Karkat."

The obvious difference in the deaths of your lusii hangs in the air, unsaid. It doesn't need to be spoken.

You shudder a little, after a while, and pull away a bit from Dave.

"Okay, Karkles?"

He pats your face and looks over his shades into your eyes. Your heart jumps at first, forgetting about Dave's eye color, but you quickly calm yourself. This is the first time you've seen them face to face, you think.

You punch him in the chest, _hard_.

"Ow, what the fuck?!"

"Don't try and pap me, you shit stain! I'm not planning on you as a replacement moirail, so don't even try. And stop using dumb nick names."

Dave curls his lips, looking like he was going to reply but taking it back.

"Fine, douche bag."

"Thank you." You mumble into his shoulder when you both relax and hug again.

He doesn't reply, but you don't really want him to.

Eventually you do pull away from the warmth and it is as awkward as finding your ablution trap in your hallway. Dave can't stop twitching towards the door like he wants to leave, and you just stand there thinking along the same lines.

"Don't mention this ever, okay douchenozzle?

"What, am I your dirty little secret now?"

You glare as you fail to understand whatever it is that he is probably referencing.

"Shut up, fuck head, you know why."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay."

After some more awkward standing around, Dave finally turns to leave and you sigh in relief. 

"Uh, Karkles? One more thing.

"If you ever want to talk and do manly shit, la casa de Strider is open 24/7 so come whenever and stay extra late." He tries to add an ironic wink at the end over his glasses but it just adds to the awkward in the air.

Dork.

"Yeah, right. Whatever, Strider."

"Yeah, whatever. Later."

 

After that your relationship had never been the same.

You avoided each other for the next few days or weeks, and then you had a nightmare. At first, that's how it was. You went over to his block under the pretense that you were bored, you talked about death and the dead for a while, and that was it.

Then one time he came to your door as you were struggling in the place between sleep and awake, and your relationship changed again. He said he was there to "hang out" but not even five minutes in of standing around in more awkward silence he was rehashing all the worst memories he had with his Bro growing up. (You tried to hide that you were crying. Dave pretended not to notice, because you know he didn't want your pity. You didn't pity him anyway - it's just that no one deserved to be treated that way by someone who was supposed to take care of you, especially Dave. Yeah, not pitying at all, even when his voice shook and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him.) He became a lot like you except more failed stoicness and snark and less crying and tender embraces. Still, it was very intimate in a completely secretive kind of way. HE had come to YOU and therefore that meant you mattered.

You started to hang out more, starting with emotions and memories and faded into jokes and ironic film discussions. You quickly realized that no one else on the meteor really wanted much to do with either of you so it made sense that we found companionship within each other.

Thus was born, as Dave calls it, "The Greatest Bromance of All Time and Space", or, the troll version: "In Which Some Dude Who's Really Fucking Suave Swept the Other Who is An Alien (No Dave That's Stupid You're the Alien and You're Making An Alien I Mean Troll Movie Title So That Makes Zero Sense) Off Their Feet And Showed Them The Path to the Greatest Bromance of All Time and Space Only to Find Out at The End That The Greatest Bromance Was Between The Two Of Them".

Yes, you weren't alone anymore, you had Dave. And you might even enjoy his company.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, they definitely fall in love and make out a lot later.


End file.
